


When no time to be sick, deny it all

by harrietrose



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sick!Courfeyrac, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrietrose/pseuds/harrietrose
Summary: Courfeyrac is sick. Courfeyrac doesn`t have time to be sick. His solution? Deny it all.Sickfic, with mother hen Combeferre, and Enjolras being Enjolras
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. 1

The meeting had been going great. Everyone was unusually focused, and Enjolras was on fire. Even Grantaire had been less opposed to the ideas, somehow leaning more towards the staring at Enjolras in awe (instead of defying every statement Enjolras made). Despite this, Joly found his mind wandering. He was thinking about midterms, Bossuet, who was home nursing a concussion, Courfeyrac looking paler than usual, `Ferre must have forgotten his contact lenses, because he was currently squinting, which reminded him that he had to refill his own prescription. He realized he was completely zoned out when he realized Feuilly was staring at him. 

"What are you thinking about?" the other man whispered. 

"Does Courfeyrac look pale to you," he asked. 

Upon first glance, many would attribute the observation to his hypochondriac tendencies -but contrary to common belief, Joly was always alert to his friends ailments, mostly so that he would be able to take care of them swiftly. Numerous bouts of a varying amount of diseases, combined with stubborn friends with no sense of self-preservation (honestly, it applied to most of them. Enjolras was however definitely the worst) had taught him that being alert of any potential illness would help anyone involved.

Feuilly eyed Courfeyrac from across the Musain. He was leaning on Combeferre, but he was an affectionate person by nature, so there was nothing uncommon about it, at least not any which was perceivable from the current distance. 

"He looks fine to me. You could ask him?"

"As if that`d bring any clarity." Feuilly chuckled, but quickly covered it up with a cough, as Enjolras directed one of his famous glares towards them. 

"Don`t you start too," Joly laughed, earning himself another chuckle from Feuilly. 

Combeferre realized the pair were directing glances in his own direction, so he subtly raised an eyebrow. Joly tried pointing, though he was unsure whether that made his point come across, or made it all more confusing. Enjolras was however turning towards them again, so he quickly became the picture of innocence for the rest of the speech. 

After the meeting, he tried keeping tabs on Courfeyrac; it wouldn`t hurt to make sure. He was mostly sat at the table, but Joly lost sight of him as Combeferre approached. 

"What happened?" he asked, obviously curious about the cryptic exchange during the meeting. 

"Is Courf ill?" 

"He hasn`t said anything, and he has been mostly normal, except he`s more cuddly... ." Though it was normal, Courfeyrac always became more clingy when he was feeling under the weather. "Thanks, Jol, I`ll keep an eye on him." He clasped his shoulder, and begun to discuss the newest pamphlet with Feuilly. Joly, satisfied at that, completely forgot that he`d been meaning to keep tabs on his (possibly) sick friend; so when said friend slipped out of the cafè, it went completely unnoticed by them all. 

Courfeyrac was in fact not ill (according to himself at any rate). When Enjolras and Combeferre entered the apartment, laughing loudly, the fact that Courfeyrac winced was completely unrelated to the noise. Or the headache that had been brewing since before the meeting. 

"Fey, you left early," Enjolras remarked, as they entered the living room. 

"Sorry," he shrugged. "I have a ton of schoolwork to do, and I`m already a week behind on the essay for the demonstration, and everyone was preoccupied, so I thought I`d just sneak out." He hardly glanced up from his computer as he spoke, though when Enjolras inspected it, he`d barely made any progress on said essay since the last time Enjolras saw it. 

He eyed Combeferre over Courfeyrac`s curly head. It was plausible enough. Combeferre, realizing the same shrugged, and decided he`d let the matter rest for now. "Tea, anyone?" 

In the end, Courfeyrac seemed to resist any attempt at hugs or affection; that was somehow even more unusual, but his friends put it down to the stress. Combeferre handed him his tea, and shuffled towards the library. Enjolras decided he didn`t want to disturb Courfeyrac (which usually wasn`t a problem; they were great at working together in silence. However, the usually jolly Courfeyrac seemed to radiate "leave me alone"), and Enjolras settled at the kitchen table instead. 

A few hours passed by in relatively comfortable silence. Every so often Enjolras would sneak a glance at Courfeyrac; though somewhat distracted, he seemed normal. Combeferre came by, refilled their teas, reminded them to take a break (they teased him, calling him a mother hen, but didn`t dare disobey him), before he retracted himself to the library again. 

Enjolras decided to test his chances. 

"Are you still working on the essay for the demonstration?"

"I`m doing the one for administrative law, couldn`t focus," he said absent-mindlessly, his face hiding behind his tea. 

They talked for a few minutes, before Courfeyrac finished his tea and started working again. It shouldn`t have been so startling to Enjolras - but usually the roles were reversed; Courfeyrac would try to stretch out the minutes, while Enjolras would insist on having to work. Even Enjolras (after having endured years of threats from Combeferre) would take at least a fifteen minute break. 

Needing something else to do, he decided to seek out Combeferre. He didn`t tell him about the episode; though odd, he put it down to Courfeyrac having a lot to do. Second year of law school was decidedly more busy than first year, particularly now when it was nearing Christmas break. 

The evening settled around the apartment; the sun went down, allowing the stars to peek through the few clouds. 

Neither of the others had realized how much time had passed when Combeferre`s head appeared around the corner. "There`s a meteor storm tonight! Do you want to join me for a walk?" 

Enjolras looked at the time, surprised to discover that it was late already. He stretched and yawned, which decided his answer for him. "I think I need some sleep," he said between yawns. 

"Truer words have never been spoken," Combeferre laughed. "What about you, Fey?" 

He looked up, unfocused, as if he`d been broken out of a trance. "I think I need one more hour on the essay before going to bed. Enj, could you read through it?" 

The blonde went to the computer, but the more he read, the more he wanted to grimace. It wasn`t horrible - however, it was far from Courfeyrac`s usual standard. 

"Are you feeling all right?" Combeferre frowned. He knew his friend wouldn`t be truthful even if he wasn`t feeling too good. However, he was slightly concerned at this very un-Courfeyrac behaviour. 

"`M just tired. I probably sat still for too long today, too," he shrugged. "Maybe I`ll go to bed now anyway," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He`d already forgotten that Enjolras had his computer. Instead he bid them a good night, and trudged off to bed.


	2. 2

Courfeyrac, somewhat delirious, had gone to bed hoping that the headache would succumb by morning. Seeing as the alarm felt as if a blacksmith was hammering away inside of his head, he quickly realized it hadn`t. Had he looked in the mirror, the deep bags under his eyes, the tenseness of his shoulders, and the feverish pink in his cheeks would hopefully have cautioned him against going to school. 

He was however, painfully behind on just about everything. He hadn`t told his friends yet, but he was retaking an exam in a week, all the while trying to tutor Bahorel, and stay on top of schoolwork and the ABC. Though he knew he probably should tell someone about the huge amount of pressure he was under, he was partially still in denial about it himself, and partially really didn`t want anyone to know about the failed exam. The conclusion was that he simply didn`t have time to be ill. 

As he shuffled towards the bathroom, he clutched onto the drawers on the way, nearly collapsing from the sudden movement. "Two minutes, and then I need to go," he told himself. 

Luckily the rest of the morning rituals went on as well as they could, despite an overwhelming urge to throw up, and a killer headache. Oh, happy morning. 

"Good morn... - you look like death." Enjolras was wide-eyed, taking in his friend`s sorry state. 

"Courf, you`re ill!" Combeferre stated. 

"I`m fine. I don`t have time to be ill-" at this both his friends looked completely unimpressed - "but it`s fine, because I`m not ill," Courfeyrac hastily finished. "Honest," he added, as if it increased his legitimacy, despite shivering even with his winter coat still on. 

Combeferre needn`t be a medical student to realize Courfeyrac`s actual state. "Back to bed," he ordered. 

"Ferre, I`m fine, really," he tried. He even attempted a grin, but it quickly turned into a grimace as he couched, aggravating his headache even more. 

"Even I can see you`re not well," Enjolras stated, a lot louder than necessary, Courfeyrac thought. He winced at the sudden increase in volume, but stubbornly shook his head. "I have to-", though he was interrupted as Combeferre placed his wrist on Courfeyrac`s brow. He couldn`t help it; the coolness was so soothing, that he couldn`t help but lean in closer. He closed his eyes at the temporary relief, until Combeferre gently brushed his hair away.

"Fey, you`re ill." Courfeyrac reluctantly met Combeferre`s gaze. You`re most definitely running a fever, and judging by everything, you feel like death," Combeferre tried in the gentlest manner he could possibly muster.

Corufeyrac really didn`t mean to; he had meant to be stubborn, and go to school - but the gentleness of the words, combined with how utter shit he felt like, he disintegrated into tears. Combeferre was startled - yes, his friend was ill, but apparantly a lot more so than he looked -which meant that he was pretty sick, as he already looked horrible. He quickly scooped him into a hug, before guiding his friend toward the bedroom.

"Come now," Combeferre coaxed, all while trying to remove the jacket. "Enj, paracetamol, a bottle of water and thermometer please," he whisper-shouted to his friend, as he guided his friend towards the bed. 

Once back in the bedroom, Courfeyrac somehow looked even worse. He was cradling his head in his arms, not even able to muster the energy to lie down. 

"Enj will be here in a moment. We just need to take your temperature, get you some paracetamol, and then you`ll get some rest," he explained soothingly. 

Courfeyrac replied with something between a nod and a whimper. 

When Enjolras arrived, Combeferre had already blocked out the morning by taping the blinds in place, as to remove any hole the sunshine could enter. He was currently running a hand through Courfeyrac`s damped curls, a worried look displayed on his face. 

The sight of his friend so sick startled Enjolras. Courfeyrac was feverish, pale, and he was obviously in pain. He shared a worried look with Combeferre, as he handed him the medicaments. "Is there anything else I can do?" he whispered. 

"Could you let the professors know that he will be home for the few next days?"

"Only for today," Courfeyrac tried to protest, but neither of them believed him. 

"Have you taken any medicine for the headache," Combeferre asked. 

Courfeyrac shook his head. Next thing he knew, two pills and a bottle of water were placed in his hands. He slowly obeyed, gulping down the water. He vaguely remembers lying down, while someone is fussing, taking his temperature ("38.9, no wonder you`re not feeling well"), and placing a cool cloth on his brow. Next thing he knows, he is unconscious. 

Enjolras` worried look is the first to greet Combeferre as he emerges from the bedroom. 

"How is he?" 

"Sleeping." Combeferre sighs. "He`s running a fever, he seems to be pretty nauseous, and he started coughing just now. Not to mention the headache. It`s probably just a cold, although a bad one - but I don`t have work until tomorrow, so I`ll stay and look after him." 

Enjolras nodded in agreement, already working out the logistics of the oncoming week. "I have lectures until two, but text me whatever food he wants, and I`ll pick it up on the way home. And I`ll try to get someone to come over when we`re both out."

Combeferre hugged him, grateful for the unspoken understanding, before ushering him out the door so that he`d make it in time for class.


	3. 3

When Courfeyrac woke up, he was grateful to find that complete darkness and quiet surrounded him. The nausea was churning in his stomach, but he luckily didn`t feel like throwing up anymore. The headache was slightly dulled - thank goodness that Ferre had forced him to take the paracetamol. Even so, he still felt horrendeous. The embarassment of the meltdown made him cringe slightly. The worst part was that the thought of being away from school had made the stress double since last he was awake. He was on the verge of considering going back to catch whatever class was going on, when his friend peeked in. 

"Morning, are you awake?" 

Normally he`d respond by something witty, but he nodded carefully instead (lest his head should decide to fall off). His friend sat down on the bedside, feeling his brow for fever. 

"You`re still hot."

"Good to know. Couldn`t have my good looks disappearing too." Courfeyrac couldn`t resist, causing Combeferre to roll his eyes fondly. 

"How are you feeling?" 

Courfeyrac was somewhere between telling the truth, and lying to get back to school earlier. Though he really didn`t want to repeat the former meltdown (even though they were his closest friends, it was a bit embarrasing), he was painfully aware that he needed to get back to school - asap. 

"Better than before." That wasn`t a lie. 

"You still look pretty bad."

"Hey, I thought you said I was hot! You really need to practice your bedside manner ," Courfeyrac teased. 

Combeferre chuckled, and ruffled his damp curls. 

"If you feel this well in an hour, I`ll let you sit in the living room. You should rest for at least another hour, though."

"Deal. Could you bring me my computer? I cannot for the life of me remember where I put it." 

Combeferre soon reentered with another bottle of water, the computer and some soup. 

"I know you`re not feeling hungry, but you probably haven`t eaten in a while," he explained. 

Courfeyrac did the mental math at the same time as his friend. Honestly, he hadn`t had a stomach for anything yesterday; he`d had a late lunch and a yoghurt, but after that, nothing. At any rate, he had been to busy, and then tired to realize. Combeferre seemed to catch onto that too. 

"When did you last eat?" he asked suspiciously. 

Courfeyrac had the decency to blush. 

"I had a yoghurt..."

"We`ve gone over this enough time with Enjolras - yoghurt isn`t food, Fey," he sighed. "Eat," he commanded as he handed him the soup. "There`s paracetamol here, water on the nightstand, and your computer is fully charged. Do you need anything else?" 

"I`m good, Ferre. Honest." 

"I`ll be in the kitchen if you need anything. Try to rest" 

Courfeyrac nodded as obligingly as he could. He was known for binging children`s movies ("they`re great, Bahorel, why are you laughing?") while being sick - but not today. He put one on for background noise, mostly in case Combeferre reentered, and opened the file on his essay. 

Enjolras had done a great job of marking it, so he set to work, ignoring the pounding of his head, and his body screaming for him to rest. He was nearly two thirds done, when Combeferre re-entered, smiling fondly as he recognized Mulan playing in the background. 

"Still feeling roughly the same?" 

Courfeyrac`s bloodshot eyes met his friends brown. "Ish," he shrugged. If he felt worse, he wasn`t going to tell. 

"You still haven`t eaten."

"`M sorry. I forgot, Ferre, and I`m not sure how much I can stomach at the moment." 

"Do you want some toast?" 

Courfeyrac grimaced. There was a very very limited amount of food that sounded tempting. 

"I`ll take that as a no. Enjolras said he`ll go grocery shopping if you want anything in particular, though." 

That nearly lit him up a little, Combeferre registered. "Do you want to stay here, or in the living room?" 

"I think I`ll stay here. The light isn`t doing much for my head at the moment," he confessed. 

Combeferre frowned, but quickly straightened out the grimace. There was a minimal amount of light seeping in from the living room, where Combeferre had opened the door. Even though Courfeyrac was ill, that amount should hardly affect him. "Get some sleep," Combeferre gently instructed, though he worried a little as he closed the door. 

It reminded him of high school - though Enjolras was often prone to headaches from doing way too much at once, Courfeyrac had migraines at least twice a month. They`d never discovered why, though he`d tried a wide varieties of doctors and treatment. Usually, he`d have a stiff neck a couple of days in advance, before the headache and nausea would hit full on. He`d be confined to his bedroom for at least a couple of days, before returning, happy as ever, if not a bit tired. Enjolras and Combeferre had created a well-oiled system; though they didn`t live together at the time, they`d see him safely home, and try to force feed him his medication, praying that it`d be effective. 

Combeferre let go of the thought as quickly as it had appeared. Whatever he was suffering from was far milder than even the weakest of migraines, so it was more than likely that some cold had been going around.

Courfeyrac, unbeknownst to Combeferre set off to work at the essay again, and continued to do so - albeit slowly and inefficiently - until Enjolras was standing in the doorway. Courfeyrac didn`t notice for a while; after all, Enjolras had a reputation for moving noiselessly, and he himself had been trying to find a synonym for "realize" for the past five minutes. He kept on writing, and didn`t notice the other man`s presence until he coughed. 

"Good day at home?" he asked. 

Courfeyrac nearly jumped out of his skin, but came to his senses quickly enough and nodded. 

"Been chilling out, not doing much?" the blonde asked. 

"Yeees," Courfeyarc hesistantly answered. 

"Whatcha got there?" 

Even if he`d managed to wrangle his computer from Enjolras in time, his panicked look would`ve given him away. 

"An essay," Enjolras deadpanned. 

Courfeyrac blushed, though there was not much change with his cheeks coloured from his fever already. 

"I`m behind. I thought I`d catch up," he explained, trying to incorporate as much charm as possible. Seeing as he was feeling warm, cold, and nauseous and in pain all at once, it wasn`t much, and he knew it wouldn`t do much good anyway- Enjolras was immune to any attempts.

"Does Ferre know?" Enjolras thought he might have let him, but it was doubtful. If anything, he looked worse than this morning. 

"Yes - but only if you don`t ask him about it." 

"Fey!" Enjolras became exasparated. "You`re ill. You need to rest!" 

"I`ve rested all morning!" It was just about as untruthful as it could be, except for the nap after the meltdown. "And I`m feeling much better already!"

"Really." Enjolras got The Look - the one signalizing he was about to obliterate anyone arguing against him, and Courfeyrac cringed. The Look was not fun. 

"Ferre tells me you haven`t eaten all morning, and hardly not at all yesterday. You still look like death (Courfeyrac somehow managed to look offended at that. He`d heard that he looked bad enough for one morning, thank you very much), you`re all but radiating with fever, and honestly, you look as if you`re on the verge of a migraine!" His voice became louder as his frustration increased, nearly shouting by the last sentence. Had Enjolras paid attention, he`d notice how Courfeyrac was wincing from the sudden loudness, and the lack of rest suddenly came crashing over him. 

Just then, Combeferre thankfully interrupted. 

"Enj, I think he needs some peace." 

Courfeyrac sent him a grateful look, though if anything he looked more pitiable than ever. 

"Fine, but I`m revoking your computer privileges," Enjolras said as he grabbed the computer, and promptly left. 

"How come you look worse than this morning," Combeferre asked. 

"I dunno." Courfeyrac couldn`t even summon the energy to dispel the statement. 

Combeferre didn`t say anything, merely tucked his friend in, kissed him on the feverish brow, and left as silently as he had when he entered. Courfeyrac instantly fell asleep. 

As soon as he`d closed the door, he turned towards Enjolras.

"What was that?" he attacked. 

"He`s been doing an essay. All day." 

"He what? He was watching Mulan last I checked on him." 

"The idiot worked from the same google doc I had left comments on. He`s been working all morning," Enjolras explained, the anger seeping out now. 

"Why on earth?" Combeferre cursed. It wasn`t that he disbelieved Enjolras, he just couldn`t fathom Courfeyrac being all stubborn and donkey-headed while ill. Enjolras? Unless the man was dying, then most definitely. Bahorel, Feuilly, or even Grantaire? Easily. Courfeyrac? Hardly. He was one of the easy-going sickies; he usually did as he was told, and as long as he wasn`t out of his depth, and he had some company, he`d be relatively happy. 

"I don`t know, Ferre." 

"Is it an importat essay?"

"It`s due in four days, and the last before the break. We`ve done hundreds of them though, he could easily do it in less than a day," Enjolras shrugged. He could fathom the behaviour any less than Combeferre. 

"I`ll talk to him once he`s awake. We`d better let him sleep for now," Combeferre decided. 

The two men settled restlessly on the couch, while waiting for the third to wake up.


	4. 4

Courfeyrac thought he wouldn`t be able to feel worse. His body disagreed. 

He was shivering one moment, and sweating the next. He groaned. He couldn`t even manage to work up stress at the thought of the essay- the misery was overwhelming. 

"Fey, you up?" Combeferre asked. 

He perked up slightly, guilty for feeling grateful that it wasn`t Enjolras. He loved the man dearly, but he wasn`t good with sick people. He was also slightly rueful after Enjolras` speech, though he had to admit that he`d probably earned that one. 

He nodded, but nearly wept as the headache tenfolded. 

"Hey," Combeferre whispered, rubbing his back as he noticed just that. Courfeyrac was in too much in pain to be embarrassed. "Here, it`s time for more painkillers if you want." 

Courfeyrac couldn`t even work up an answer to that, merely stuck his hand out, and accepted the water bottle handed to him, then promptly fell asleep.

He woke up when Combeferre checked in on him again about half an hour later. Though somewhat less in pain, he was more uncomfortable than before, and managed to whine his complaints to his friend. 

"You`re still pretty hot," Combeferre confimed. "You might have to stay home from school for the rest of the week." 

At that, panic seized Courfeyrac. His eyes grew wide, and he sat up far too quickly. 

"No, Ferre I can`t!" 

Combeferre frowned. "Why on earth not?" Had he not known better, he`d say Courfeyrac looked ashamed. "Does it have something to do with the essay you`ve been writing all morning?" 

Courfeyrac would`ve blushed, had his face any more redness to spare. 

"How do you know about that?" he asked defensively. 

"Enjolras told me. It`s all right, I`m not angry with you," Combeferre said, growing slightly concerned. 

"You talk about everything. You might want to fill in me too, as I`m currently the one confined to bed!" he exclaimed. 

"Hey, I`m sorry. You`ve been falling asleep pretty often lately," he explained patiently. Mindful as he was, he was aware that something else was probably behind the outburst - Courfeyrac was very rarely angry. 

The sick man huffed and looked away, obviously annoyed, but also to ill to have the energy to sustain it for long. 

"Is there anything else on your mind," Combeferre asked softly.

Normally, Courfeyrac would at least pretend to hold up against Combeferre`s gentle prodding, before explaining whatever problem that was bothering him. Now, even as he turned towards his friend, his eyes grew teary, and his explanation quickly turned into sobs. Combeferre hardly understood a word, so he hugged his friend instead, letting him cry. 

Hiccoughs replaced the sobs, and when he was sufficiently calmed down, he managed to explain it properly. 

"There`s so much to do, between school and ABC, a thousand essays, and I`ve been tutoring Bossuet to help him catch up, and I failed an exam, Ferre." He was nearly on the verge of sobbing again, having worked himself up. 

Combeferre calmed him, as he rubbed his back. 

"Shh, it`s all right. Even Enjolras has failed exams before." 

Combeferre would`ve laughed at the teary-eyed surprise in his friends eyes, had it not looked so pitiable. 

"But don`t tell him I told you. It was highschool."

"What classes?" Courfeyrac asked, unable to even imagine Enjolras failing at anything. 

"P.E." 

Courfeyrac snorted. That was fairly believable. Though mostly graceful as a swan, the man had no coordination when a ball or running was involved. They`d picked him up from various schools plenty of time on crutches, or with a packet of ice.

"And german." 

Courfeyrac looked surprised at that. 

"Point is, it`s not the end of the world." 

"It will be, if I`m ill and away from class for the rest of the week. It`s already Tuesday, and the exam is in less than a week!" 

Combeferre grew thoughtful, but couldn`t think of any solution on the spot. 

"And Ferre, I don`t want to let down the ABC, nor Bossuet, and the essays, and..." 

"You`re not letting down anyone, you`re being ill. There`s a difference." 

Courfeyrac nearly grew tearful again. 

"Tell you what, Enjolras can probably tutor Bossuet. I`ll finish the essays - Enjolras said you were nearly done anyway, so it doesn`t really count as cheating anyway - and we`ll find a way to save your exam." 

Courfeyrac all but wept with relief. 

"You however, need to rest. And eat. I`m bringing you toast, unless you want anything else, and if you don`t eat, I`m sending Enjolras in to lecture you again," Combeferre threatened, though there was a glint in his eye. 

Courfeyrac managed a small chuckle at that, and when Combeferre left the room, he felt a lot less stressed out. 

"Do you mind if I come in?" Enjolras was standing in the doorway, a lot calmer than before. "I`m sorry. For shouting. And for scolding you." 

"You weren`t wrong, though." 

At that Enjolras ventured into the room, and sat himself on the bedside. "Even so, I should`ve been nicer."

"It`s all right. For the record, I`m sorry too. I should probably have listened to both of you sooner." 

"I wish Enjolras had this much sense when he`s ill," Combeferre chuckled, entering with toast in hand. "It would make it so much easier." 

"Feel free to take the cold at any point now if you want to practice, Enj," Courfeyrac laughed. 

Enjolras smiled affectionately, and ruffled his curls.

In the end, Courfeyrac managed about half a piece of toast, to everyone`s delight. Enjolras promised he`d speak to the professor, to see whether they could reschedule the exam, and Courfeyrac managed to mostly relax the rest of the evening, and luckily slept through the night.


	5. 5

Given that his friends had managed to take a lot of his workload off his chest, and that he had eaten lots of toast and tea yesterday, he was sure he`d be on the mend soon enough. As he went to bed he felt slightly lightheaded; but then again he`d spent most of the day on the sofa, trying to focus on whatever movie Enjolras was currently suffering through (he was aware that he was the one to decide the movies, but as he was sick, it was "his divine right, Enjolras, quit whining"). 

"By the way, I`ve got a morning shift at the hospital, and Enj has morning lectures, so one of the others will be over," Combeferre casually mentioned while changing movies. "One of the others" was obviously one of the nine friends of the ABC, though it would probably be Joly or Jehan - they were easily one of the best ones to have over when ill. Though Courfeyrac cringed a little at the thought of anyone other than his two closest friends seeing him in his current state, he could hardly ask any more of them - they had already worked incessantly trying to ease his workload, coercing him to eat, worrying and mothering him, and it was only fair that they should have some time to take care of their own work. Judging by how he felt now, it wouldn`t be too bad to have someone over - they would at any rate hold more appreciation for his movie choices than a certain blonde did. 

Courfeyrac woke up feeling certain that someone had dropped a brick on his head when he was asleep. Everything hurt, the smallest movement was painful, and he hardly dared sit up as Combeferre quietly entered to bid him a good morning. 

"Are you sure you`ll be all right with Enjolras and I out?" he asked, concerned. 

Courfeyrac, though he desperately wanted to, didn`t have the heart to say otherwise. Instead he did his best trying to put on a brave face. 

"I`ll be fine. After the amount of toast I`ve eaten, I should be completely fine by tomorrow."

"You know I can call in sick, it`s not particularly busy at the moment. Or Enjolras could drop his lectures," Combeferre offered. 

"It`s fine. Honest, Ferre, at this rate you`ll never let me out of the house if I so much as cough," he laughed, though it he had to bite his tongue to stop it from turning into a wince. 

"If you`re sure," though Combeferre didn`t sound too convinced. "Jehan will be here any moment." 

"Go, Ferre, we`ll be fine," Courfeyrac persuaded. 

Enjolras entered at that, looking him up and down. "You`ll be all right?" Courfeyrac wasn`t sure whether Enjolras perceived more than he let on for once, or if it was a mere double checking, but he grinned and nodded. Enjolras stared for another moment, obviously trying to calculate how much truth was in it, but in the end he decided that Courfeyrac would last the day.

"Now don`t forget the medication`s in the kitchen, and remember to drink lots of water, and -" 

"Ferre, we really need to go," Enjolras sighed, already dragging his friend behind him by the sleeves. 

"Bye, be nice to the professor, Enj!" 

As soon as they left, he let the grin drop. Truth be told, the headache reminded him far too much of the migraines he used to have years ago. He had started jogging and eating healthier, and that had helped somewhat. With time, the migraines had decreased in time and frequency, until there had been years between them. He had somehow held the migraines at bay until now, but he was a bit worried if he was honest with himself. The migraines were far from enjoyable. 

He let the thought hang in the air for a moment, groaning in frustration as he realized his friends had forgotten to close the door behind them. He knew Jehan would arrive any moment - he was frightfully precise - but the daylight seeping in annoyed him into getting up. Dizzy as he was, he needed a minute to clutch onto the headboard, steadying himself as best as he could. The instant he started walking, he realized his mistake. His vision seemed to mock him, procuring darkened spots instead of the steady floor he was sure he was directing his gaze at. Though he was walking painfully slow, nausea churned in his stomach. When he finally reached the door, he tripped and fell, nearly knocking himself out on the corner of the dresser. 

Just then, Jehan entered. Courfeyrac, having spent all of his focus on journeying to the door, had hardly noticed the key turning in the door, nor him shouting a greetening. He would`ve jumped out of his skin, had he not been so in pain. 

"My dear friend, what are you doing?" he asked, kneeling down at once, though baffled to find the patient on the floor, rather than in bed. 

"The door.. the light, it..." Courfeyrac could hardly grasp the words. 

"Let`s get you back to bed first," Jehan interrupted calmly, though internally growing increasingly worried. 

After draping his arm around his shoulders, Jehan, though more slender, managed to hoist Courfeyrac up, and steadily guided him towards the bed. After ensuring that he was as comfortable as he could be, he set to work, producing cold cloths, water bottles, and a thermometer, before Courfeyrac had as much as gathered his surroundings. 

"You still have a temperature, but not more so than yesterday according to Ferre," Jehan frowned. 

"`s a migraine," Courfeyrac explained, though each word cost him a new wave of nausea. 

"Migraine?" Jehan was obviously confused. As far as he was concerned, one was usually aware on whether one was prone to migraines, and he had never heard on Courfeyrac having any. 

"`ve gotten them since high school." 

The poet let out a quiet "hm," half pity, half deep in thought. He frowned in concentration, trying to assess the situation, but still acutely aware that his friend was in need. 

"If I`m honest, I don`t know too much about migraines, and you don`t really look like you`re in a talking state, so I`ll call Ferre. Stay here, and I`ll be right back." 

He tried Combeferre first, but went straight to voicemail. He considered calling again, but knew that it was probably busy, and if anything, he could try the others first. Enjolras was in class, and diligently kept his phone off, so that was hopeless. In the end, he decided on Joly, luckily getting through soon enough.

"Joly, are you busy?" 

"Somewhat - Bossuet just sprained an ankle, and we`re on the bus trying to get home. How come?" 

Jehan softly cursed (he would consider it a curse - Bahorel and Grantaire would most certainly not. It didn`t even put half a euro in the swear jar in the Musain). He was unsure of how much to say - but since it was an emergency, he decided it would have to pass. 

"Courfeyrac is having a migraine."

"A what?"

"A-"

"No, sorry, I heard; I didn`t know he got them," Joly explained. 

Jehan sighed, telling the watered-down version. 

"I can come over if you want to? But it`ll probably not be before an hour and a half with the traffic and all, I`m really sorry. Have you tried Ferre?"

"Straight to voicemail. If you tell me what to do, I can work it out from there, I think," Jehan said. 

"The most important part is medication. And make sure he stays hydrated, and let him sleep lots," Joly explained. He gave him a few more tips and explanations, before wishing him luck, and to make him call once more in an hour to update, and produced a neat list of other ailments which could accompany the headache. 

Jehan softly reentered the bedroom, finding Courfeyrac nearly in tears with pain, cradling his head helplessly. 

"I just got of the phone with Joly. You probably need some water. Do you have any medication for the migraines?" 

Courfeyrac vaguely pointed in a direction, and Jehan blessedly managed to runmage the closet successfully. 

"I found them!" he whispered excitedly. "But oh, Courf, these expired two years ago!" 

"Does it matter?" Courfeyrac would gladly take food poisoning over headaches at this point. 

"I`m afraid they wouldn`t be effective, even if they didn`t cause you to be sick. Well, more sick," he explained. 

In the back of his head, he remembered seeing another bottle of painkillers similar to this one. 

"Gimme a second, I`ll be back," he whispered, before swiftly leaving.

He briefly considered sending a text in the group chat, trying to pinpoint who`d had the same medication, but he resolved against it. Courfeyrac might have chosen not to tell them for a reason, thus he would try to involve as few as possible. Still, he lacked medication... Jehan turned his brain, until he suddenly remembered, nearly dropping his phone in excitement as he typed the number. 

"`Taire!" he nearly shouted with joy. 

"Goodness, what on earth is the matter?" 

"Do you still have that migraine medicine from last summer?" 

"Yes, I think so?" 

"Can you meet up at Ferre`s as soon as possible with it?" Jehan quickly asked. 

"Of course," he replied, though there was an obvious unanswered question of why lingering in his voice. 

"I don`t have time to talk, see you soon," and at that Jehan hung up, leaving Grantaire more confused than ever. 

Courfeyrac nearly threw up as the bedroom door opened again, allowing light once more to flood through the door. 

"Courf, `Taire will be here soon." 

He wanted to groan, not necessarily because he didn`t want to see him, more that he did not want to be seen by anyone, and hardly for more people to know than already were aware of his predicament. 

"He`s bringing medication." Jehan grasped his hand, and pushed away some of the damp hair clinging to his friends brow. Courfeyrac melted into the coolness of the touch, which allowed him an ever so brief respite. 

"Try to rest, I`ll bring the painkillers as soon as `Taire is here," Jehan whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading thus far!! Seriously, this is just a very aside hobby, but I do hope you are enjoying it! I am just about to start school, and I know it will be super busy - so I will try to finish it before the worst rush, but no promises! 
> 
> I just wanted to add some quick notes on migraines! Obviously, I`m no doctor, and I`m definitely no expert on the field. I`ve done some research, so the baseline is (hopefully) correct. NHS confirms that 
> 
> \- There can be years between attacks  
> \- Some, but not all get auras beforehand  
> \- Medication, sleeping and darkness can be effective in relieving migraines  
> \- Light / sound sensitivity are common symptoms alongside the migraines  
> \- Stress, foods or tiredness can trigger migraines   
> \- Migraines can get worse over time, but tend to gradually improve 
> 
> However:   
> \- If slurring your speech, one should call an ambulance  
> \- Same goes if you have a high temperature, stiff neck, mental confusion, double vision, seizures (and others) 
> 
> I decided that the slurring of speech and fever were symptoms of the cold (so it`s a migraine paired with a cold, talk about giving him everything at once), thus not needing an ambulance at the moment. 
> 
> Anyhow, if you`ve read all the notes so far, bless! Basically, I don`t get migraines, but I`m trying to keep realistic. Thanks a lot for reading again, and I`m hoping to post more soon!


	6. 6

Grantaire, to Jehan`s relief, arrived within ten minutes, medicine in hand. 

"Thank you so much, you`re an angel!" he whispered, careful not to disturb the patient. 

"Jehan, what`s going on?" 

"Courfeyrac`s having a migraine," Jehan explained, throwing his hands up in the air, signaling that he was feeling very much out of his depth. 

"A migraine? Are you sure it`s a migraine?" Grantaire didn`t mean to sound doubtful, but could hardly help himself. 

"He said so himself - and honestly, he`s in no state to explain it anymore," Jehan replied. 

"It`s that bad?" Grantaire was honestly surprised. 

Jehan paused. "I`ve never seen him like this," he explained. "But then again, it could be a mild migraine - I really wouldn`t know." 

"Do you want me to take a look, see if I can help? I`ve had enough experience with headaches," he smiled humourlessly. 

"Yes, please. I`m not sure he`ll be happy about it, but whatever helps at this point," Jehan replied gratefully. 

They entered the bedroom as quietly as possible. Grantaire quickly scanned the surroundings – the blinds taped to the window, various water bottles lying around, uneaten food at the nightstand – and the man himself, clutching his head. 

Despite a lot of black eyes, hangovers, stress headaches, dehydration headaches (or any type of headache really), Grantaire had no experience with migraines. He was however impressively perceptive and quickly realized what needed to be done. 

“Courfeyrac?” he whispered. 

The man barely looked up, and when he did, his gaze was filled with pain. There was hardly any room left for recognizing his friend. 

“I`ve got some medication. It`s the same you`ve used before,” he said kindly. 

Courfeyrac was completely folded together, and utterly tense. 

“I need you to sit up,” he said, rubbing the other`s back. He wanted to add a comment on how he`d choke if not, but decided the fewer words the better. 

Courfeyrac was mostly dead weight, clammy and tense, and too senseless to do much. It took all of both Grantaire and Jehan`s strength to get him to lie somewhat comfortably – they`d quickly given up on having him sit, but still, Grantaire reckoned something would improve by laying down in a position which didn`t involve cradling one`s head. 

“Here. Take it,” he said, pressing the prescribed dose in his friend`s hand. 

Courfeyrac just looked at him. 

“It`s migraine medication. I`ll explain later,” he said, handing him a bottle of water. “Drink as much as you can stomach.” 

Courfeyrac, slowly gathering that this would help him, drank a few sips, before resigning once more. 

Grantaire shrugged – it was better than nothing. 

“It should be around half an hour before it takes effect,” he said to Jehan. “Could you fetch a bowl of cold water and some cloths?” Jehan instantly got up, glad to be of use. 

Meanwhile, Grantaire opened the window, careful not to disrupt the blinds. Though he didn`t have the heart to make the man change clothes, he was clearly overheating, and the air was doing no one any good. 

“Do you need anything else?” Jehan asked once back.

“I think this will do. Help me get off his t-shirt?” 

Jehan, though reluctant at first, helped his friend in a somewhat sitting position, enough so that Grantaire could drag the t-shirt off. He then placed a cloth on his brow, changed the duvet for a blanket, and turned off the light once more. 

“We`ll be right outside. The best thing you can do is to sleep,” he whispered gently. 

Once outside again, Jehan finally dared to breathe. Usually, looking after Courfeyrac when he was ill, was watching Disney movies and making sure Courfeyrac got enough hugs, which was honestly simple enough. This – he was far out of his depth. He shuddered a little, remembering how weak his friend had looked. What scared him the most was not knowing about the condition at all. He respected his friend`s privacy – but he`d feel a lot more comfortable knowing that Courfeyrac would be taken care of by anyone, as long as someone was merely aware. 

He shook the thought away and directed a thankful glance at Grantaire. “Thank you so much. You saved me from torturing him, and from calling Ferre in the middle of a busy shift,” he said. 

“Don`t worry about it,” Grantaire replied, smiling a little. “And you wouldn`t have tortured him,” he assured him. 

“I`m not sure. I have never seen anything like this before,” the poet explained. 

“I`ve had enough headaches, which is useful experience, I hope,” he laughed. Jehan chuckled softly but remained somewhat thoughtful. 

“Can I ask - how come you have migraine medication?” 

“They`re antiemetics,” he explained, though he laughed kindly as Jehan looked more confused than before. “They`re against nausea. You remember the time I got stabbed?”

“As if I could forget,” Jehan replied drily. 

“Well, the antibiotics made me really nauseous, but they were the only type I wasn`t allergic to. So they gave me loads of these, to combat nausea. I googled it, and you`re right – they`re also commonly used against migraines.” 

Jehan nodded. “So you don`t get them?” 

“Never had one in my life, hopefully never will,” he replied. 

Jehan sighed in relief. It`s not that he couldn`t have handled it, but he was glad that his friend was not hiding any ailments – at least not migraines. 

“You`ve literally been an angel.” Jehan`s gratefulness was overflowing. 

“Honestly, it was no trouble.” Grantaire looked at his thin frame, eyeing the man`s confusion and uncertainty. “Do you want me to stay?” 

Jehan thought about it for a moment. “Do you have any other plans?”

“None at all. Although I was considering crushing you at Uno,” he smiled. 

“That sounds like a plan to me,” the poet smiled. 

They went through five rounds of Uno, and were halfway through Monopoly when Combeferre called back. 

“Hello, I`m so sorry, the shift has been wild, and I`ve just started my lunch break, so I have a few minutes now. How are you both?” 

Jehan winced a little. He considered glossing over the situation but decided that would be unfair. 

“We`re all right ish –he`s having a migraine,” he said. 

“A migraine?” Combeferre sounded surprised. “He hasn`t had one of those in years!”

“Well, he`s having one now.” Jehan was very rarely irritable, but the stress of the morning, plus seeing his friend`s ailments, he could hardly help it if he was on the verge of being so now. 

“How is he? What are the symptoms?” 

“Headache, nausea, light and noise sensitivity,” Jehan listed. 

“Those are the same as he had yesterday. Has he had a migraine since then, and not even told?” 

“Honestly, I don`t know. I found him on the floor when I arrived – I think the idiot was trying to fetch something, I`m not sure. He really only said the bare minimum.”

“On the floor – Jehan, do you want me to come home? He hasn`t had an attack in years, and I don`t think any of his medication is in date.”

“It`s fine – Grantaire had some of the same kind, he`s here now. I think we`re all right – he`s been sleeping for a few hours. We got him to drink some water as well.” 

Jehan tried to sound as soothing and confident as he possibly could. He felt a lot more certain with a friend at his side. 

“Are you completely sure?” 

“Go eat your lunch, Ferre. I think Joly can come over too if needed, but for now, I think he`s best left undisturbed.” Jehan sure sounded a lot more certain than he felt. “Is there anything else we can do, except water and all?” he asked, not wanting to miss anything that could be helpful. 

“No, you`ve been marvelous, you both have,” Combeferre confirmed. “You`re a star. Just try to keep him hydrated and stop him from overheating, and make sure he rests a lot, and that should hopefully be enough.” 

Jehan nodded. “That much we can do.” 

They quickly said their goodbyes, before Jehan returned to the monopoly board. 

“Ferre says hi. And he called us stars.”

“Stars? Not bad,” Grantaire laughed. “Have you checked on him lately?” 

Jehan glanced at the watch. “Not since an hour ago.”

“I`ll go. Make yourself a cup of tea meanwhile.”

Courfeyrac, only sub-conscious, looked marginally better. He was definitely less tense, and as he felt his cheeks, they were cooler than last. He even startled a little at touch, which was more than he had done before. 

“Sleep, don`t mind me,” he whispered kindly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am no medical person, nor am I an expert on migraines, so any remedy is utterly fictional! Though I did double check, and some antiemetics are used to treat migraines (my original plan was to have Grantaire use them as I wrote it in the fic - but then I forgot, and struggled for ages w incorporating it (does Grantaire get headaches? Does he have a family member / friend who does?), bc none of it seemed realistic, until I got back to plan A (I was so relieved). 
> 
> So everything worked out, except for poor Courfeyrac who is bedridden, hahah
> 
> Again, hoping to update soon, see you all next time!


	7. 7

Combeferre wished he had the time to eat. He was currently hiding in the cupboard - it was the only way to steal a couple of minutes away from the far too hectic shift. Though he was motherly (to the point of annoyance, as Enjolras willingly pointed out), he was not as good at taking care of himself - he`d easily prioritize his patients or friends. His friends would probably have his head for it, he realized, but he decided against lunch - there was already too much to do. He stowed away the phone, took a deep breath, and left the cupboard. 

He wished he could say the rest of the shift had been less chaotic - if anything, the pre-lunchtime part of the shift had been better, which really was saying something. It didn`t help that he was asked to work an extra hour. Despite Jehan and Grantaire at home nursing their friend having a migraine for the first time in years, he didn`t have the heart to say no. Enjolras would be home soon anyway, and would hopefully prove to be useful. "Hopefully", Combeferre muttered to himself.

As Enjolras entered the house, something felt different. 

"I`m home," he shouted, though he was instantly greeted with shushes from the living room. 

"What`s going on - hey, Grantaire?" 

"Courf is having a migraine," Jehan explained. "`Taire`s here to help." 

The stoic leader nodded a couple of times, though stopped abruptly. "Wait, migraine?"

Jehan explained for what felt like the hundredth time. 

"But he hasn`t had one in years," Enjolras protested. 

"I`m aware," Jehan replied, closing in on annoyance once more. 

"How is he?" the blonde asked while sitting down with them on the sofa. 

"Last time I checked he was still asleep," Grantaire said. "He`s a bit less feverish, and seems to be less in pain," he shrugged. "Then again, I`ve never seen him have a migraine before. I didn`t even know he got them until Jehan called," he said, leaving aquestion in the open. 

Enjolras sighed. "He got them a lot during high school. Ferre and I knew; we`d follow him home whenever they started, but we never saw him during the worst of it.   
Then, with life style changes and medication they went away - or so we thought," he explained. 

Grantaire nodded understandingly. Jehan still looked somewhat upset. 

"Why didn`t you tell us"? he asked, somewhat more accusingly than he had meant to. 

"We thought he was done with it," Enjolras explained exasparated. "And it wasn`t for us to tell."

"I suppose that`s fair," he muttered, though he remained disgruntled. 

"Jehan, what`s the matter?" Grantaire asked, more surprised than anything. It was rare to catch the poet in a bad mood. Unhappy and melancholic - possible, but angry annoyed? That rarely ever happened. 

"I couldn`t stop thinking - what`d happen if he got a migraine without either of you two around? None of us are educated on them- we didn`t even get the chance to be. The worst part about this, is that we could`ve been so much more of use to him!" Jehan was talking quickly and emotionally. It was a stark contrast to the usual calm and collective Jehan. 

"I apologize," Enjolras started. "I mean, it Courfeyrac`s responsibility to tell, but we honestly all thought they were finished. Otherwise I would`ve forced him to tell you." Jehan laughed a little at that. "Even so, you have every right to be upset. It wasn`t fair of you to suddenly be thrown into this debacle." 

The poet sniffled a little. "Well, thankfully, I wasn`t alone." He smiled gratefully at Grantaire. "I understand, truly I do - it was just a less than fun experience," he said. 

Enjolras took his hand and smiled. "I promise to give you a full list of illnesses before next time you`re asked to babysit," he laughed. "And I mean it," he added more seriously. 

After checking that Courfeyrac was still asleep, and as comfortable as he could be, Enjolras made them tea (and promised to pay them both back somehow), while they finished the game of monopoly that had taken place since morning. 

"Such a capitalist game," Enjolras muttered as he watched.

"Well, it is rather the point, Apollo," Grantaire smiled. 

"You don`t have to be so smug about it," he replied, but there was humour in his voice. 

Jehan and Grantaire left a little after that - Jehan was understandably tired, and probably needed some time to unwind, and Grantaire had class. 

"I didn`t even know," Enjolras exclaimed, obviously surprised. 

"Well, it`s not much - it`s only a part time art course, but I thought it`d be interesting," he shrugged, downplaying how much he genuinely enjoyed it. 

"Well, I`m glad," Enjolras smiled, and there was genuine happiness there as he squeezed the other`s hand. 

Once they`d left, Enjolras mentally prepared before entering Courfeyrac`s room. He wasn`t used to taking care of other`s while ill, and was generally one of the last people to be asked. Not that he minded - he was notoriously bad at it, uncomfortable with the patient`s discomfort, his stoic demeanour crumbled, and he became uncertain, second-guessimg his instincts, and was generally Not Good. He could somewhat manage his friends, but that was about it. This however, was a different league. He`d only seen the start of Courfeyrac`s migraines, and he knew they were bound to be pretty bad, gauging from the few times he spoke of them in retrospect. Seeing for himself was something different. 

He entered the bedroom quietly, trying not to stir the other. Even so, he shifted in the bed as he came closer. 

"You can sleep, Fey," he whispered. 

The other sat up somewhat, still confused. 

"How are you feeling?" he whispered once more. 

"Not the best," Courfeyrac replied. 

Even that was enough to stir Enjolras - his friend rarely admitted to not feeling good. 

"Here, try to drink some water," he said as he handed him the bottle. "And try to sleep some more." 

Courfeyrac nodded, and rested his head on the pillow once more. 

Enjolras put the bottle back on the nightstand, before he left the room. He made himself a cup of coffee thoughtfully, and counted the minutes until Combeferre would be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> I am sorry for the short chapter, but I`ve been feeling pretty crappy (I think stomach flu), so most of the past couple of days have been spent binging and sleeping (much like Courfeyrac here). 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it even so, and I`ll be back, hopefully soon with a new chapter!


	8. 8

Combeferre, too was counting the minutes. He was currently an hour past the shift was meant to finish, but there was still lots to do. He was used to it, by all means; but the fact that it was his fifth shift this week (which was a lot, considering it was Friday), not even to mention that Courfeyrac was having a migraine, and he had never really witnessed one of them - it was a lot. He sighed out loud without realizing. He shook his head a little, as if trying to expel the thoughts, and started making a little list of what he`d do when he got home to try to stay cheerful (most included food. It was difficult to forget that he`d only eaten a banana today. Though a good cup of tea would surely not be amiss either). 

He kept track of the list, adding to it (a good book, the blanket, maybe watching mamma mia if his roommates were up for it) as the shift continued for another half hour. By the end it had turned into a decent shift (busy but somewhat nice), and though he was tired, he had a small smile playing on his lips when he left the hospital. The fact that he had the day off tomorrow definitely helped. 

He stopped to pick up an array of dinner, as well as snacks, before heading home. At that point, he was still in a good mood, but he`d also kill for some tea. Mostly he wanted to shut himself in a dark room and stay there for the next three days. 

Enjolras luckily seemed to sense that when he entered. 

A short "goodness," managed to elude him, but he stopped himself before continuing the sentence, sensing Combeferre`s unimpressed gaze. 

"I`ve bought dinner," was all he said, lifting up the takeaway bags. 

"You`re a saint, Ferre. But come sit down, you look-" Combeferre sent him the same gaze. 

"Exhausted," Enjolras continued, not even a little fazed. He moved a little to make room for him in the sofa. 

"Thanks. Working overtime and night shifts and I don`t know what does that to you," he replied. 

"I`m sorry. Busy shift?" he asked sympathetically. 

"One could say that. I`m sorry for being snarky. You`re right, I am exhausted," he sighed, snuggling closer to the blonde, drawing comfort from the warmth and familarity of Enjolras. 

Enjolras started rubbing circles on his back, and Combeferre sagged even deeper into the embrace. 

"I really should check on Courfeyrac," he mumbled from beneath his shoulder. 

"I checked five minutes ago, he`s sleeping," Enjolras hummed. 

"Hmm," was all Combeferre could be bothered to reply. 

They sat like that for a few minutes, but Combeferre sat up a little straighter when he started dozing off. "I really should check on him though, he hasn`t had a migraine in ages."

Enjolras cocked his head, taking in the dark circles under Combeferre`s eyes, the frown - he really radiated tiredness. 

"How about you go check, and I`ll make you a cup of tea?" 

"You`re a saint," he replied, smiling a little. 

He quietly went to Courfeyrac`s room, but despite his efforts, he woke when he tiptoed towards the bed. 

"You`re home?" he croaked. 

"I`m home, love," he replied softly. "How are you?" he asked, feeling his forehead for a fever as he asked. 

"Bit tired of the question really," he said, trying to laugh, but it turned into more of a grimace. "`s a migraine," he explained, in case Combeferre hadn`t caught on. 

"I heard," he said sympathetically. "Is there anything we can do?" 

"Enj has been good," he replied. "And I took some medication." 

Combeferre nodded. Courfeyrac somehow looked better and worse than last. He was less pale, and not shivering, but definitely tense, as if anticipating loud noises and disturbances to cause him more pain. He wasn`t wearing anything but pyjama bottoms - Combeferre guessed he had been overheating. 

"You`re still a bit warm. And you can probably take some more painkillers. I`ll be back in a sec," he explained as he got up to leave. Courfeyrac looked ready to protest, but settled for a pout at that. 

"I`m just fetching the medication," he explained when entering the kitchen. Do you know when he last took it?" he asked. 

Enjolras glanced quickly at the clock, and did some circular motions in the air, silently counting. "Six hours ago, I think."

"Thanks!" 

Combeferre didn`t bother to be as quiet as he re-entered. 

"Here, take this," he instructed gently, handing him the tablets and a water bottle. Courfeyrac grimaced, but didn`t protest. 

Combeferre carefully gauged the situation, scrunching his eyes slightly as he did so. 

"What?" Courfeyrac asked. 

"Hm?" 

"You always do that when you`re considering something," he explained amused, thus temporarily diverted from his ailments. 

"What?" 

"The Face," Courfeyrac explained earnestly, though that didn`t help Combeferre. He laughed a little even so. 

"I was just thinking." 

Courfeyrac looked at him nonplussed. 

"It`s been so long since the last time," he continued. And I realized that I`ve never really seen anything but the start of a migraine." 

Courfeyrac shrugged, unsure on whether it was a statement, an accusation, or an observation. 

"I find I am uncertain of what to do, how to help," Combeferre added, sensing his friend was growing abashed. 

"I-" Courfeyrac started. He had, between waves of discomfort and whatnot, grown increasingly aware of the fact that only his parents had seen him in such a state. It was everything from embarassing (particularly Jehan finding him on the floor - that had not been fun), to somewhat closing in on decent (particularly when Enjolras had snuggled). "I know," was all he replied, uncertain on how to proceed. Combeferre didn`t mind, he was already lost in thought. 

"I realize you`re probably not in the mental space to start instructing us and whatnot." Combeferre nudged him gently, assuming quite correctly that Courfeyrac was in no such mood. "But will you let us know if you are missing anything?" 

He nodded, on the verge of tears from the way Combeferre was able to sense what he needed, which in itself was just what he needed, and how kind he was, and how very tired he was. 

"Try to rest. I`ll be right outside," he whispered. He kissed his forehead, all while Courfeyrac was dozing off, and left quietly to get his tea. 

Enjolras, bless his heart, had laid out the softest blankets on the couch. Mamma mia was already in the DVD-player, and there was a steaming hot tea on the table. 

"You`re a saint amongst men, do you know that?" 

"`Taire seems to believe I am Apollo reincarnated, but I`ll settle for saint," Enjolras laughed. 

Combeferre laughed fondly, settling on the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, snuggling into his friends shoulder, and absorbing all the warmth he could from the mug, he was quite content. Only a few minutes passed after he had finished his tea, before he fell asleep.

When he woke up, the wedding was more than halfway through. He sat up, somewhat dazed, but feeling much better than previously. 

"Feeling better?" Enjolras asked him. 

"Much," he replied, feeling quite restored. "You know what the best part is?" he asked. 

Enjolras raised his eyebrows in question, amused. 

"I have the entire weekend off," Combeferre smiled while stretching. He dearly loved his work - it would probably be the death of him, and he wouldn`t mind. However, having an entire weekend was a rare treat, and it couldn`t have come at a better time. 

"I`m glad to see you`re back to yourself," Enjolras smiled. "Are you up for dinner?" 

"Definitely," he replied, suddenly aware of the black hole that was his stomach. 

They ate in companionable silence. Though they were perfectly content, they both missed the senseless chatter of the centre. If Enjolras was a blast of white, Courfeyrac was the steady fire - shedding warmth as well as light. 

A few more hours passed. They both regularly checked on Courfeyrac, who thankfully seemed to be doing better - he even managed to stomach a little of the dinner Combeferre had bought. Combeferre was able to tick most the boxes of his mental list, to his delight. He was currently rereading a book on the history of maps (which had caused a ruckus when he`d brought it to the Musain for a meeting once. Combeferre hadn`t thought that one would be so controversial). 

He was far too comfortable, laying outstretched in the sofa, another cup of tea replacing the previous one. Enjolras, the darling, had made him a fire, before he had set off to work on his newest essay. Thus, he was pretty startled when Courfeyrac entered, still looking pretty poorly, paler than last, and wrapped in a blanket. 

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but slumped down in the sofa instead as Combeferre made space for him. 

He sat for a few seconds, calming his stomach. "I got tired of the room," he explained, half-waiting for a protest.

Combeferre nodded. "Feeling any better?" he asked, while closing the book. 

"A bit," he replied. "I think the migraine has passed. I`ve got a slight headache, but it`ll probably be gone by tomorrow." 

Sensing something was amiss, he waited. 

"I think I`m mostly embarrassed if anything," he finally added.

He knew that Combeferre would talk sense into him if he didn`t interrupt, so he continued. 

"I`ve never had a migraine in front of anyone, ever. Especially not Enjolras. And you know how he hates dealing with sick people," he said, giving Combeferre a meaningful look. Combeferre, who was more than aware, chuckled. 

"And poor Jehan, he literally had to scoop me up from the floor. And he and `taire had to remove my t-shirt-" he stopped, cringing at the memory. 

"I know you don`t like it." Combeferre took his hand. "And it was probably a less than fun experience for everyone - but that`s not because of what happened, it`s only because we were so ill prepared." 

"I know," he sighed. "Still, I`d much rather be without it." 

"I know. If it helps, everyone has something. Perhaps not physically, but we all rely on each other." Courfeyrac seemed unconvinced. "For example, Enjolras and Grantaire, even Feuilly rely on Joly to patch them up in the middle of the night when they decide to attack robbers." 

That extracted a chuckle from Courfeyrac. "It was phenomenally stupid," he replied. 

"Indeed," Combeferre laughed. "My point is, you don`t need to be ashamed about anything that happened. However, I think we should make a plan - just in case it should happen again." 

"Agreed. Poor Jehan - you should`ve seen his face when I told him it was a migraine. I`ve never seen him so lost. We really should invite him to a grand dinner or something," Courfeyrac mused. "And `taire of course. I think I would`ve died without the pills," he said earnestly.

Combeferre laughed at his sincerety, relieved that his friends was obviously feeling so much better. "That reminds me, you really need to renew your prescription."

"I do." 

There was a comfortable pause. The fire crackled comfortably, and from the bedroom they could hear Enjolras tapping rapidly on his computer keyboard. 

"I am sorry, though." 

"Whatever for?" Combeferre was surprised. 

"I don`t know. For suddenly getting a migraine. Or for not telling the Amis about it beforehand. I swear I could hear Joly shouting about it on the phone from the kitchen. For not renewing the prescription." He shrugged as the list went on. 

"Love, the only thing you have to be sorry for, is not telling us soon the instant you knew it was a migraine. How long did you know before telling?" Combeferre didn`t pursue the question as Courfeyrac blushed. "Anyway, the rest were mishaps, and we all thought the migraines were over. Thus, I think it`s time we do some research on it." 

"Agreed. Not now, though."

Just then Enjolras entered. His hair was a mess, but he still managed to look majestic as he threw another piece of wood into the fire, along with an essay he clearly wasn`t happy with. 

"What did the poor essay do to deserve that," Courfeyrac teased. 

Enjolras rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Feeling better?"

Courfeyrac settled for a content nod. 

Enjolras walked over to them, plopping himself in the sofa besides Courfeyrac. A noisy minute passed as they rearranged themselves to fit all bones and joints. 

"I swear, your elbow is like a flipping knife," Courfeyrac complained, causing Combeferre to snort. 

"If you don`t move, you won`t feel it," he replied automatically, having had this conversation multiple times already. 

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes instead of replying. When they were settled, Combeferre was leaning on the armrest, Courfeyrac snuggled against his chest, and Enjolras laying mostly on Courfeyrac. 

"Will you read to us?" Enjolras asked. 

Combeferre smiled gently. "I only have a book on map history."

They both groaned, albeit teasingly. 

"If you want another book, you fetch it," Combeferre said in mock-offense, but he couldn`t hide the smile from his voice.

"I`m not risking Enjolras` knife-elbow again. What about you, `jol?"

"I`m far too comfortable to get up. Map history it is," Enjolras concluded. 

Combeferre needed a moment to take it all in. He was happily snuggled against his two best friends, who were (mostly) healthy and happy. They were full, content and warm - the feeling was equivalent to all the tea he could ask for. Smiling at the comfort of it all, above the top of his friends` heads, he started reading. 

"The roman Eumenius had a more traditional attitude when it came to maps. How wonderful it is to see pictures of the world- we can only see what is ours, he said..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes this series! Thank you so much to everyone who has follow, left kudos or commented - it makes me very giggly and very happy!! 
> 
> Again, I did some research on migraines, as I personally do not get them, so I do hope it`s accurate, or that I at least haven`t done an ill portrayal of it (pun not intended :P)
> 
> I also have a few other Les Mis stories, if you want to check those out! They`re all in the same universe / my set of headcannons! 
> 
> The amount of school / midterms / tests / essays ... suddenly exploded, meaning I won`t be able to write at the same rate which I have been doing `till now - but I will keep writing! 
> 
> If there`s anything specific you wan`t to see, please comment or let me know! I already have a couple planned out in my head, but I do love suggestions! 
> 
> If anyone is wondering - there is a book on the history of maps, and yes I do own it (and have just started reading) - and it honestly is more interesting than it sounds! (Or perhaps I am more Combeferre than anything else, hahah)
> 
> Anyway, that`s it for now - see you next time! <3


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